


hate is a bottomless cup

by merthyr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Death, Multi, References to Torture, Sexism, because voldemort, because... you know, it's voldemort, things are gonna get pretty sketch is what i'm saying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:18:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8109142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merthyr/pseuds/merthyr
Summary: When the Matron hands Merope Riddle her daughter she cries.





	

 

 

> "O what will she do, a soul bitten into with wrong?"
> 
> \-- Euripides

 

When the Matron hands Merope Riddle her daughter she cries.

It is in awful world to be a woman. Her baby should have been a boy-- she could have been handsome and strong, a man worthy of the title like her father. _Oh_. Oh, Tom. Will her heart ever stop breaking?

With shaking hands, she brushes back her child’s hair, already dark and full and turning to curls. Her eyes are new and gray, but she thinks one day they will turn black. Not even an hour old, and she is more lovely than Merope ever was; it is a bitter feeling, but she’s glad of it all the same.

What does one name a girl? She will not name the baby after herself, nor her mother. She wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. This girl will have a powerful name, a name that loved and was loved in return. She thinks back to the book her mother had hidden under the floorboards; the sorceress and the prince and the golden sheep. It had been such a long time since she’d heard that tale.

“Her name is Medea.” She says, and her voice sounds like it’s underwater, “Medea Lavinia Riddle. I hope… I hope that...”

 

 

Medea is a beautiful child with an unfortunate name.

Much fuss is made over her bouncy curls and belladonna eyes. When would-be parents are brought to Wool’s, Medea is hidden away like pirate’s gold; a hidden temptation, cursed and dangerous.

She cannot always be locked away. When she is seven a man sees her staring out through the gate’s iron bars, and his heart is pierced. He goes home to tell his wife, barren since their last stillborn babe, and the next day he is meeting with the Matron.

“The beautiful little girl with the black curls, she is perfect for me and my wife.” His smile is wide and summer sweet, “We’re not rich by any means, but we’ll be good parents for her, I just know it. I believe it was god’s will that had me pass this street.”

Mrs. Cole’s mouth twists. “It was not god who brought you here, sir, I will tell you that.”

The man pales and then reddens. “How can you say that!?” He demands, “Will you refuse her the chance for a good home?”

“No, sir, I will not.” She says.

The papers are processed quickly. When Medea is let out to meet her new parents, rose bud lips pressed into a smile, Mrs. Cole wishes them the joy of her. When she is brought back two weeks later she is not surprised.

“They would have loved you.” She tells the girl. “There are children here who would have given anything to be in your place.”

Medea stares up at her guilelessly, the very picture of innocence. “I don’t know what I did wrong, Mrs. Cole.”  She says. Mrs. Cole scoffs, but she doesn’t say anything. There wouldn’t be a point. She has duties to attend to, and she intends to do them on time.

When her back turns Medea’s face goes blank.

The next day little Ellie Walters comes running for her, red faced and tears streaming. There are burns along her arm, angry and new. The burns are shaped like little hands --a devil’s mark-- and she knows she needs only search the girl’s ward to find a match.

 

 

Most children know to stay away from Medea.

Billy Stubbs learns later than most, trailing after her with forlorn sighs. He’s new, so he doesn’t know any better. He’s a good boy, if not a little over-large, with a soft spot for pretty, lonesome things-- he puts baby birds back in their nests, picks up the babies when they cry and nurses sick rabbits back to health.

He’s weak and she takes advantage, weaving him a tale of intolerance and isolation, and he laps it up like a love sick puppy. She likes the way he does anything she tells him to, and she loves it when she sees the struggle behind his eyes.

It’s a big difference, having a boy at her back. All the children know to stay away from her-- they leave the room when she enters, bright eyes dimmed with malevolence. But when she’s with Billy they stay, they do what she tells them to, even the big boys.

She loves it and she _resents_ it.

She catches Shirley Taggert gossiping behind her back, telling tales that are too true. Medea tells her to zip her mouth and she does; Shirley tries to scream, muffled and fearful, but her lips are sealed. She tells Shirley that if she ever hears her talking again she’ll disappear her tongue for good, and big crocodile tears stream down Shiley’s cheeks. She can’t even pry her lips apart far enough to eat that night.

It would have been all in good fun if there wasn’t a witness. Billy begs her to stop it, of course. He’s a soft headed sort, but she thinks she’s scared him. Billy says if she doesn’t put it right he’ll tell the Matron, and when she laughs he doubles down and says he’ll tell a priest.

He was useful, but she finds herself tiring of him. Medea says, “You won’t say anything.”

“I will! This isn’t right, it’s too far! I will!”

  
He does. There’s no real proof but the Matron takes away her dinner, and the next day she hangs Billy’s sick rabbit from the rafters. She didn’t even need to use her gift for that one.

**Author's Note:**

> So, Medea Lavinia Riddle doesn't anagram into I am Lady Voldemort. But it _looks_ like it could.


End file.
